


let's make some new rules

by camiii



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Party, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, lots of talking about sex but no fun times happening sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camiii/pseuds/camiii
Summary: A coffee shop, a Christmas party & a fake date to make sure no one gets laid at the end of the night.





	let's make some new rules

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Hi, hello, I wrote a thing (technically I wrote half of it last year but didn't manage to finish it in time for Christmas..) 
> 
> Nick and Louis and a fake date for a Christmas party. that's it. that's the fic.
> 
> Happy Holidays to anyone celibrating, and Happy Louis Day!
> 
> This is un-beta'd, and not britpicked, because I suck an only managed to get it done late last night. My apologies. (edited Dec 25th because elsi-bee is AN ABSOLUTE GEM and beta'd for me thank youuuu) And thank you Amber for talking plot with me when I was stuck and second guessing everything <3
> 
>  

 

 

 

 

 

Nick shivers, shoulders hunched in his leather jacket. It’s bloody freezing out. He stumbles a bit, but then straightens against the icy cold wind. He’s definitely feeling the numerous drinks from last night as well as the complete lack of sleep. He wants to be home in his flat, in his bed. Not be standing outside a Costa coffee shop at half seven on a Sunday morning regretting all of his fucking choices. But if he goes home he has to face Aimee and Emily and he really doesn’t feel like having a animated run through of all his mistakes right now.

The wind picks up, sending him into another bout of shivering. His teeth clatter so loudly he thinks it could probably be heard from across the road. Not that there’s anyone there who would hear it, the area is completely deserted. There doesn’t seem to be a single living soul awake except for Nick, and the guy he can see behind the counter inside the coffee shop.

Coffee. A coffee will fix everything. 

Well, not everything. Unless caffeine has developed the ability to erase the past, and delete drunkenly hooking up with your useless ex for the hundredth time when you should know better. Nick knows better, he _does_. It’s just that he tends to forget after a couple of drinks and, honestly? Drunk Nick is an idiot.

He pulls the door open, stumbling down the steps on unsteady legs. It’s quite possible he’s still more than a little bit drunk, he never actually got any sleep. He’d known having sex with Adam was a mistake about five seconds into the two of them snogging on Adam’s doorstep but he’d been sloshed and kind of sad and did he mention drunk Nick’s an absolute idiot?

“We’re closed, mate.”

Nick looks up from where he’s been rubbing his icy hands together, trying to thaw them enough to get his wallet out of his back pocket. He probably does a crap job of keeping the distress off his face. “Oh, sorry. The door was open.”

The guy sighs, clearly put upon. “Fucking hell. I swear if they don’t fix that stupid latch soon..”

Alcohol hasn’t, Nick realises, taken away his ability to tell when he’s not wanted. He swallows, momentarily distracted by the burning sensation in his fingertips. Losing both of his pinkies would be a really shitty icing on an already shitty cake. “Right. So, I’ll just-” He makes a gesture towards the door, immediately feeling like a right tit. “Sorry-” 

Since the universe hates him and wants him to suffer, he ends up nearly tripping over the first step leading up to the door. He barely manages to catch himself against the handrail.

“Are you drunk?”

Nick doesn’t even have the energy to lie. “Maybe? A little?”

“What did you want?”

“Huh?”

“What did you want to order?” The guy elaborates, waving some kind of coffee-making tool in the air. “And fair warning if you say something ridiculous I’m not making it. I’m too fucking hungover for that shit.”

“Coffee.” Nick breathes out, like a prayer. His head has begun to throb and he has a suspicion it’s only the beginning of a spectacular hangover. “I just wanted a cup of normal coffee. Are you supposed to tell customers you’re hungover?”

“It’s too early to even pretend I’m not.” The barista shrugs as he reaches for a cup. “I don’t get paid enough for that. I can do regular coffee though.”

“Are you sure?” Nick asks, but he’s inching closer to the counter.

“Yep.” The guy says, popping the p. “You look too pathetic even for a Sunday morning and the coffee’s done brewing so, whatever, it’s cool.”

“Thank you.” Nick tells him earnestly, not even caring about the thinly veiled insult. “Louis.” He adds, reading the name tag.

“Louis.” The guy corrects his pronunciation. Nick barely hears him, busy tracking Louis’ every move as he pumps glorious, lifesaving coffee into a large porcelain mug. No takeaway cup, then, Nick notices. He’s so grateful he doesn’t have to go back outside just yet he might tear up if he thinks about it too much. He blames the lack of sleep.

“Thank you. I just... thank you.”

“It’s on the house.”

“No, no, I can pay for it,” Nick reaches for his wallet but Louis waves dismissively.

“Nah, it’s okay, mate. I haven’t gotten the register set up yet and it looks like you could need it.”

Nick sighs before he can stop himself. “Yeah.”

He has a sip straight away, nearly sighing with relief, before walking over to settle into a huge velvet armchair in the corner of the shop. His thoughts keep flashing back to last night. Or early this morning, more like. Reading a text from Adam from a corner of the dance floor, bathed in strobing lights. The brief moment where he’d pretended like he wasn’t going to say yes. That he’d stay with his friends, have another drink and finish the night off with messy kebabs from the shop down the road from their flat. He hadn’t, he’d left instead, got a taxi from the club to Adam’s flat and spent a good ten minutes shivering outside until Adam’s taxi had pulled over. The rest, well, it’s an old story at this point. Suddenly feeling more than a little dirty, Nick shivers, wishing for a hot shower. 

He’s startled out of his thoughts when a plate is put down in front of him on the tiny table. It’s a caramel shortbread. A couple of crumbs have come off one corner. He looks up at Louis in confusion, just as Louis sits down in the armchair opposite Nick’s own. “What’s this?”

“I’m supposed to throw it away, it’s been on display too long, but I thought you might want it.”

Nick swallows, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness. “Cheers.”

“So-” Louis says, clearly fishing for a name and Nick realises with a start that he never introduced himself.

“Nick.”

“So, Nick.” Louis has a taste of his own drink. “What brings you here at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning?”

Nick hesitates, regret suddenly sitting like a leaden weight in his chest. He shrugs, hoping Louis will let the subject drop.

“Come on.” Louis says, “I’m basically a bartender, tell me your secrets.”

“You work at Costa, that’s not even close to tending bar.”

“Please. I make highly addictive, overpriced drinks for people from behind a counter.”

He has a point. Nick pushes a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply before he speaks up. “I, uh, just came from my ex’s flat.”

“Ah, sorry mate.” Louis grimaces. “Did that happen just now? Wow, you’ve had a crap morning.”

“No. It’s been ages. It’s just-” Nick trails off, not quite sure how to put the tangled mess that is his non-relationship with Adam into words.

Louis quirks an eyebrow, eyes sparkling with mischief and Nick understands why when he continues. “Good sex?”

“Not really?” Nick blurts out, has another mouthful of coffee before he continues. “Decent. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it.”

“We dated for, uhm, six months? It was good, at the beginning.” Nick picks at the edge of the pastry with the fork Louis has left on the plate, digs the prongs into the chocolate until it cracks. “Less so when I found out I wasn’t the only one he was seeing.”

He only realises he let the more revealing pronoun slip when it’s already out there. Louis doesn’t seem fazed though.

“That’s shit.” Louis tells him, and Nick can tell from the tone of his voice that he’s gained an ally. He can’t believe the things he’s telling this random stranger, but something about Louis’ demeanor makes him feel like it’s okay.

“Yeah.” He agrees. It’s embarrassing, still, remembering how foolish he’d been. How foolishly he’s still acting. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want him to know it hurt, you know?” He says, quietly. “So when he texted me randomly a week or so after it made sense to let him come over, yeah? Figured that would show him how little I cared, and now, well, it keeps...happening.” 

“The shagging?”

Nick cringes but forces himself to nod. “Yes, and then I have to bump into him in the corridors at work and it’s awkward as fuck.” 

Louis’ eyes widen. “Wait, you _work_ together?”

“Yes.” Nick groans, stabbing the pastry with his fork.

“Where do you work?”

“I do radio. I’m producing a morning show on BBC2. With Chris Evans?”

“That’s cool.” Louis leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I usually listen to Greg James’ show. He’s hot.”

They’re interrupted by a woman walking through the door. Louis looks up from his mug, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something but then seems to realise it’s actually late enough for the shop to be open. He quickly gets back to his place behind the counter, and Nick watches him prepare the woman’s drink for her while he picks some more at the shortbread. Louis thinks Greg is hot. Louis probably isn’t straight, and he has a nice smile.

He doesn’t fully expect Louis to come back, but the second the customer is out the door he plops back in the chair opposite Nick.

“So, Greg James.”

Nick makes an affirmative sound. “He’s nice, good fun. Adam, my ex, works with him.”

“Do you still have, like, feelings for him? Your ex?”

“God no.” Nick blurts out, catching himself off guard. “Huh.”

“Only realising that now, are you?”

“Yeah.”

“So, that’s sorted then. Stop getting drunk and going back there. There’s a song about this, you know.” Louis starts singing Dua Lipa softly, and surprisingly well.

“Have you considered a career in therapy?”

“Nah.” Louis grins, leaning back in his chair. “I’m gonna be a teacher, me. Last year of uni. All I gotta do is survive until Christmas hols and then there’s only one semester left.”

Fuck. Nick’s stomach drops at the mention of Christmas. Louis must be able to tell something’s wrong from the look on his face.

“What?”

“Christmas.”

“Yes?” Louis says, slowly, clearly worried about Nick’s mental health.

“The Christmas party.”

“You’re making even less sense than when you first walked through the door, and let’s be honest here, mate, that’s quite the feat.”

“Greg’s throwing a Christmas party and I said I’ll be there.” Nick whines. “Fucking hell. His parties always end in mayhem. I have to go, we’ve already talked about straight through crew-ing it.”

“Straight crew what?”

“Straight through crew. It’s when you stay out all night and then go into work to do the morning shows straight from the after party. Or when work becomes the after party.”

They still talk about Greg’s party from two years ago. The show the following morning had been epic, or so they’d thought at the time. They’d nearly gotten their heads bitten off by big boss Ben.

Louis shrugs “So? That sounds completely irresponsible and really fun? You’re gonna have to tell me when this party is so that I can listen to the show the morning after.”

“It is fun.” Nick barely manages to kill the urge to pull at his own hair in frustration. “But Adam’s going to be at the party.”

Louis has started singing Dua Lipa again when the door opens, and this time it’s no less than three women, all pushing prams, that are making their way into the shop. Louis looks as if he wishes for imminent death.

“Go on,” Nick teases him carefully, eager for a change of subject. “There are gingerbread lattes to be made.”

“Oh, fuck off, Nicholas.” Louis quips, but he’s smiling and despite his miserable state of mind Nick finds himself smiling back.

He watches Louis as he leaves, adding ‘nice bum’ to the list of Louis’ qualities. The hangover really is becoming too much for being in public, or even in an upright position. He drains his cup and immediately regrets it. The coffee’s not really sitting right with him anymore. Not wanting to leave without saying goodbye, at least, he idles over to the counter.

Louis looks up from where he’s wiping the counter top clean behind the espresso machine. “Hey. You leaving?”

“Yeah.” Nick gets out, cringing at the croaky sound of his voice. “I’ve gotta get home.”

“The hangover’s hitting you bad, huh?” Louis offers him a compassionate look. “You look a bit rough, mate.”

Nick nods, immediately regretting it when it makes his head pound and his stomach lurch. “But I just wanted to say, uhm, thanks, again. For the coffee and for listening to me complain.”

Louis shrugs. “No bother. I could-”

Nick’s been about to leave but stops at the hesitant tone of Louis’ voice. “What?”

The door to the shop opens again, a couple dragging a couple of carry-on suitcases walking through. “Give me your number.”

“What?” Nick blurts out, then nearly bites his tongue to keep from embarrassing himself further. Smooth, really smooth.

“I’m not asking you out or anything.” Louis is quick to add, fiddling with the stack of cup sleeves. “I had an idea, yeah? But I can’t really tell you about it when I’m waist deep in gingerbread lattes.”

“That sounds gross.” Nick ignores the tiny sting of hurt. Of course Louis wasn’t going to ask him out. Not when he’s just spent the last thirty minutes explaining why he’d be an absolute trainwreck of a date.

Louis sighs. “You have no idea.”

Confused, but too tired to ask any more questions, Nick takes the cup sleeve and pen Louis is pushing in his direction and carefully jots down his number. He hands it back silently once he’s done, watching Louis slip into the back pocket of his skinnies. A harried looking man in his fifties comes up to the counter, cutting their conversation short, and Nick leaves with an awkward wave.

 

 

 

 

 

When Nick wakes up it’s late afternoon, and his hangover feels a little bit like he’s been run over by a herd of cows. He’d barely made it inside the flat this morning before he’d been rushing to the loo, losing the meager contents of his stomach. It had been horrible, but at least it had gotten Aimee off his back and kept her from lecturing him on all of his shitty life choices. She’d hovered behind him instead, offering him a glass of water when he was done. He loves his flat mates, he really does.

He curls up underneath the duvet, poking a leg out when he gets too hot, sweat prickling his hairline. He needs a wee and an ibuprofen but he’s feeling to weary to move right now and ends up reaching for his phone instead. There’s a text waiting for him from an unknown number, and he opens it with his heartbeat picking up inside his chest.

 _Hi_ , the text reads, _it’s Louis from this morning. I hope the hangover isn’t too bad_

Nick squints at the screen, awkwardly trying to type out a reply without losing his hold on his phone. 

_I feel like death. Thanks again for the coffee and the chat_

It takes a couple of minutes for Louis to reply, and Nick uses the time to sneak out into the hallway and into the loo to have a wee. He can hear the telly out in the living room, and the whole flat smells like tea and toast. His stomach rumbles hungrily, but he still ignores Emily calling out his name as he slips back inside the comforts of his bedroom.

 _That’s rough mate_. Reads Louis’ reply. _I might have a solution to your problem, mind if I give you a ring? It’s kinda hard to explain over text._

Nick swipes right to call Louis instead of replying to the texts. It’s not until he’s listening to the call being connected that he realises maybe he should be nervous.

Louis picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hiya,” Nick says, and then has to pause to clear his throat. “It’s Nick.”

“Yeah.” Louis is quiet for a moment. “Sorry, this is a little weird.”

“Nah,” Nick lies, wincing when his voice kind of gives up and it ends up sounding more like a very hungover croak. When Louis speaks up again Nick can hear the smile in his voice through the phone.

“Not feeling your best, huh?”

“Ugh.” Nick groans, lying back down and pulling the duvet over himself. “I just woke up.”

“Oh, you’re getting no compassion from me.” Louis replies, airily. “Some of us have been hard at work all day, ever since some knob stumbled into our coffee shop this morning causing a ruckus.”

Nick pulls his duvet up higher. “Sounds charming.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“So-” Nick trails off, pushing his hair back and wincing when his fingers catch on a tangle.

“Right.” Louis clears his throat. “I was thinking about your problem.”

Nick makes an embarrassed sound against his pillow. His oversharing really reached a new level of embarrassing this morning. He’s blaming the Jägerbombs.

“Like, maybe if you brought a date to that Christmas party? Then you’d have someone to keep you from leaving with what’s-his-name.”

“Adam.” Nick reminds him, thoughts racing. It doesn’t sound like a half bad idea, but he’s not sure where Louis is going with this “I don’t-”

“Can you bring a date? Is that, like, allowed?”

“Are you joking? Greg would be thrilled. He’s been trying to set me up on blind dates for months.”

“Do you think he knows someone or-”

“Or what?”

“I could do it.”

The jumbled mess of thoughts running through Nick’s head comes to a screeching halt. “You could do what?”

“I could go with you.” Louis explains. “To the party. I thought that if we acted all, you know, infatuated or whatever it would help with your Adam situation.”

“Why would you do that? We don’t even know each other.”

“You wouldn’t know a blind date either.” Louis says. “And why wouldn’t I? Love a good Christmas party, me. Throw in a hot radio DJ and I’m there.”

Nick can literally feel his jaw drop.

“I mean Greg, of course.” Louis adds, quickly. “Not that-”

“Right.” Nick cuts him off, not waiting for Louis’ explanation. You don’t need to tell Nick he doesn’t measure up against Greg, he can tell that perfectly well on his own.

“So, yeah.” Louis clears his throat and is silent for a moment before he speaks up again. “What do you think?”

Nick should say no. This is so over the top. He shouldn’t need a babysitter to prevent him from getting shitfaced and sleeping with his rude ex-boyfriend. “I mean, if you’re offering?” He can’t believe what he’s about to agree to. “It might work, yeah?”

“Setting you up with a date so you don’t get some. That’s a new one.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Louis says, and then there’s suddenly a lot of background noise on his end. “Look, I’ve gotta go. The match is back on and my flatmate’s about to kick me in the arse for talking over it.”

“Right.” Nick has no idea what he’s talking about. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from the… footie?”

“Got it in one.” Louis chuckles. “Text me the details, yeah?”

“Okay.” Nick agrees. “And Lou?” The nickname slips out before he can think twice about it.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Nick tells him, still a little overwhelmed by this random act of kindness. “This is… really nice of you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Louis replies, laughing quietly. “I’m in it for the booze.”

“Are you gonna get drunk and sing Mariah at karaoke?”

“Will there be karaoke?” Louis asks, sounding positively delighted. “This is my best idea ever. Ow! Bloody hell, Niall, would you-” 

Nick winces when the sudden increase in volume has his headache flaring back to life. “Bye, Louis.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll text you later, mate. Bye!”

 

 

 

 

 

It’s been a week since their plan was set in motion, when Nick’s phone suddenly rings on Saturday afternoon. Louis’ name lights up the screen. Nick’s stretched out on the sofa with Emily watching Corrie reruns. He and Louis have been texting a little during the week but it’s been stilted at best. It’s a little awkward now that the hangover and the feeling it would be the perfect solution has worn off. The party is six days away and Nick’s definitely panicking a little.

“Hiya.” He accepts the call, stomach swooping uncomfortably with nerves.

“Help.”

“What?” Nick sits up so fast Emily shoots him an alarmed look over the rim of her tea mug. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in Hell.” Louis continues, and Nick relaxes a bit at the theatrical statement.

“Yeah?” He sinks back against the cushions, feet back in Emily’s lap. “And where is Hell exactly?”

“I’m not joking, Nicholas.” Louis hisses, there’s a lot of noise on his end. “I’m at Westfield.”

“Why on Earth would you go to Westfield with only a week to go until Christmas?”

“Because _someone_ invited me to a Christmas party filled with posh media types and radio DJs and I have nothing to wear.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Oh, stop.” Louis cuts him off. “Just...I don’t know. Tell me what to look for. I have about fifteen more minutes left before I snap and you’ll hear about me on the news or summat.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t even know, this place is a nightmare. There is so much tinsel.”

“How about Topshop?”

“Topshop.” Louis echoes, a touch manically. “Topshop, yeah, that’s a good idea. And then you can come round to mine and help me choose. Bring beer.”

Nick’s confused. “What?”

“There’s no way I’m getting in line for a fitting room in this mayhem. I’ll just get some shit together and try it at home, yeah?”

“And you want me to come because?”

“Because you’re a posh media person.” Louis tells him. “I’m your date, it’s in your best interest to make sure I don’t show up looking like a knob.”

“I’m not posh.” Nick objects. It’s easier than reassuring Louis that Nick would probably find him stupidly attractive even if he was wearing a bin bag. “But yeah, okay. Sure. I can come over. If you want?”

“Yes. Don’t forget the beer. I’ll text you the address.”

It’s chucking it down outside and Nick’s almost soaked to the bone by the time he finds his way to Louis’ flat. He knocks on the door, shaking the rain off his shoulders as he waits. A guy he doesn’t recognise opens the door with a grin on his face.

“Hey, mate, you must be Tommo’s date.” He greets Nick. He holds out a hand for Nick to shake. “I’m Niall.”

“That’s me.” Nick fights the wave of embarrassment and shakes Niall’s offered hand. “Nick.”

“Come on in.” Niall takes a step back to let Nick through the door. “Lou’s fixing his hair.”

“Oh, sod off, Niall, you liar.” Louis appears through the doorway on their left. “Hey, Nicholas.”

“Hiya.” Nick holds up the beers. “As requested.”

“Good man.” Niall exclaims, plucking the six pack from under Nick’s arm. “We’re gonna need these if that one’s putting on a fashion show.” He nods towards Louis.

“I hate you.” Louis sing-songs. “You can chuck your coat there with the rest of them.” He tells Nick, motioning towards what Nick guesses is some kind of clothes hanger to Nick’s right, barely visible underneath a pile of hoodies and coats. 

The flat isn’t big. The room to their left turns out to be Louis’ bedroom, it looks as if he’s sleeping in what used to be the living room. The room’s in a bit of a state, but there’s a three seater sofa squeezed in there, the back of it acting as a headboard for Louis’ bed. It creates a bit of a living room and it’s obvious Niall’s feeling right at home from the way he collapses on the sofa.

“We don’t really have a living room, sorry.” Louis tells him, he’s brought two shopping bags with him and is kicking stuff on the floor to the sides to create some space.

Nick joins Niall on the sofa. “What kind of leverage did Louis have on you to get the bigger room?”

“Don’t you mean what kind of leverage does Niall have on me that forces me to have him in my room at all hours of the day?” Louis replies flippantly, busy digging through the contents of a Topshop bag.

“I’m a delight.” Niall objects, looking up from his phone. “I work a lot of weird hours. It made sense for Louis to have the bigger room.”

Apparently tired of searching for what he wants, Louis dumps everything out on the floor. He holds up a hand before Nick can even voice his distress. “Not a word from you, Grimshaw.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I could feel you judging me from all over there.”

Nick lets it slide. “That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Emergency credit card.” Louis shrugs. “I need one outfit, everything else is going back.”

They sort through the clothes together. Louis holding stuff up, and Nick and Niall calling out their verdict from their position on the sofa.

“That one’s nice.” Nick gestures to the jumper Louis is holding. It’s a thin, black knit, with a pattern of purple squares across the chest and shoulder. “Could do that one with the jeans you’re wearing.”

“Nah, Lou won’t go out out in those jeans.” Niall says, grinning over at Louis. “He’ll dig out the-”

“Shut up Niall.” Louis snaps, throwing his zip up hoodie at Niall’s face.

“Always with the ‘shut up, Niall’.” Niall grumbles, dropping the hoodie on the floor. “As if your ‘come fuck me jeans’ are some kind of well kept secret. They’re not, mate, we’re all friends here.”

“Friends and fake boyfriends.” Nick has another mouthful of beer, and then almost chokes on it when Louis pulls the t-shirt he’s wearing over his head, suddenly shirtless right in front of them.

Niall whistles, and Louis flips him off before bending down to pick up his new purchase. Nick should probably try and manage some kind of flippant comment as well. Too bad he’s too busy trying not to be too obvious about how he can’t stop looking at Louis. Louis is gorgeous, and Nick’s a sweet mixture of disappointed and relieved when Louis covers back up.

“Well?” Louis messes about with his fringe, pushing it back into place before looking up. “How does it look?”

Niall answers with another whistle, even more obnoxiously loud this time, and Nick catches Louis fighting a smile.

“Right, Nick?”

Nick’s horribly unprepared for Niall’s question. He panics for a second, scared he’ll end up telling Louis he looks so good in that jumper it makes Nick want to take it off. “Yeah.” He gets out, eventually, and Louis’ eyes are warm when he looks up at him. “You look great.”

“That’s decided, then. If it has the posh radio type stamp of approval. Might keep the blue one too, just in case.”

“I’m not posh!” 

Nick’s objection falls on deaf ears. Louis shoves everything but the the jumper he’s chosen back into their respective bags. Nick should probably leave. They’ve clearly finished what he came here to do. But he has finally begun to thaw, the wet patches on his jeans from the rain nearly dry. He’s definitely not looking forward to going back out again. 

Niall is the one who comes to his rescue. “So, Nick, are you heading off straight away?”

“I don’t have plans.”

Niall leans forward, elbows on his knees. “See, me and Tommo have a very important task at hand. Want to stick around and help us out?”

“Sure.” Nick agrees. The hesitation he feels must be evident in his voice, but a look in Louis’ direction gives nothing away. 

“Excellent.” Niall claps his hands together. “I’ll go heat them up.”

“Heat what up?”

“Use your words, Nialler.” Louis laughs, collapsing into the beat up armchair next to the sofa.

“Right, sorry.” Niall pauses for a dramatic drum roll, beating his fingers against the table top, “We’re crowning ‘London’s Best Mince Pie’!”

Nick laughs, can’t not. “”Really?”

“Yes.” Niall nods, looking like it’s very serious business. “We even got fancy ones from some fancy place up in Notting Hill.”

“Niall takes this very seriously.”

“It’s a serious matter.” Niall nods, stretching languidly. “I’ll go heat up the first two rounds.”

“So, we should probably prepare for next weekend.” Louis speaks up the second Niall’s out of the room.

“Prepare for what?”

“We might want to get our stories straight.” Louis pauses, winks. “Well as straight as we can, anyway.”

Nick can’t stop the laugh from spilling out, and Louis grins, clearly pleased.

“But, you know, how did we meet? How long have we been dating, that sort of thing.”

Nick hadn’t even thought about that. He’s officially the worst at this fake dating thing ever. It’s going to take approximately twenty seconds for them to be found out come Friday evening. Maybe he’ll just quit his job and become a sheep farmer instead. “Right. Sorry, yeah, of course.”

Louis reaches for his beer, nearly toppling off the edge of the armchair before he can reach it. Nick takes pity on him, handing him his half empty bottle. Louis settles back in his seat with a happy sigh. “So how long have we been dating?”

“The party’s only two weeks after the last time Adam and I, you know.”

“Shagged.”

Nick cringes. “Yes. Well put. Wouldn’t want him to think I was with him while I was seeing you.”

“So, it’s new then. Gonna act all infatuated with me, Nicholas?”

They are so very, very fucked. Nick’s a horrible actor. He’s not sure he’s even been in a play since primary. “This is never going to work. Maybe I should just, I don’t know, try and have some self preservation for once.”

“Of course it will work! I’m a great actor!” Louis objects, having a swig of his beer. “That’s what I’m in school for, you know.”

Nick blinks, confused. “Fake relationships?”

Louis eye roll is nothing but fake. “Drama.” He explains, then adds a cheery. “Idiot, and English.”

“That’s cool. You going to teach drama then?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Right, so we’ve been dating for two weeks. How did we meet? Maybe we should stick as close to the truth as possible, yeah? You came into Costa and we hit it off?”

Nick can’t help but think that Louis’ suggestion is nothing but the truth. They did hit it off, didn’t they? Uncomfortable topic of conversation aside, he’s beginning to realise he enjoys Louis' company. He’s funny and easy to talk to, not to mention bloody gorgeous. Perhaps, if they’d met under different circumstances, Nick would have asked him out. Not that he’s very good at doing something about it when he fancies someone. He usually sticks to pining in secret and making a fool of himself whenever he comes face to face with his crush. Suddenly, he realises Louis is waiting for him to respond. “Yeah, that sounds… let’s go with that.”

“That way we don’t have to like, come up with a whole backstory and no one can expect you to be able to name my siblings or something.”

“I could probably memorise a name or two.”

“I have six younger siblings.”

“Wow. Right. Yeah let’s skip that for now.” Intrigued, Nick has to ask. “Are they all here, in London?”

“Nah, they’re up North. Doncaster.”

Nick nods. He had picked up on the familiarity of Louis’ accent. “You’re far away from them.”

A shadow crosses Louis’ face, and it makes Nick’s heart clench. He loves London, himself, but he’s all too familiar with the feeling of being too far from home. Of missing out on stuff because you’re hours away. It’s impossible to be a part of things the same way over text messages and FaceTimes compared to if you were really there. 

“It’ll be good to see them.” Louis says, picking at the label on the bottle.

“See who?” Niall returns from the kitchen cradling a plate with steaming mince pies.

“My family.”

“Right.” Niall nods, putting the plate down and taking a seat next to Nick. He reaches for a new beer and has a long pull before he speaks back up. “They’re gonna spoil you rotten when you come back home. I can’t believe I’m missing the birthday celebrations this year.”

“Birthday?” Nick looks between the two of them, but it’s Niall who’s the first one to answer his question.

“Tommo is a Christmas baby.”

“Christmas Eve.” Louis adds.

“That’s-” Nick trails off, unsure if he’ll embarrass himself by insulting Louis’ birthday.

“A bit crap, yeah.” Louis agrees, but he’s smiling. “Lots of birthday presents wrapped in Christmas wrapping and all that.” He turns his attention to Niall. “You’re invited, though, you know that.”

“I know.” Niall replies. “But my mum already booked me a plane ticket. What about you, Nick?”

“I’m from Oldham, me.”

“Proper Northern.” Louis seems pleased. “You going home for the holidays?”

“I am. I’m driving up next weekend. You too, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. I have a shift at the shop on Saturday morning and then I’m getting on a bus straight after.” 

“As riveting as this conversation is, we have an important task at hand.” Niall cuts them off, gesturing at the mince pies. “Let’s get down to business.”

When Nick comes home that evening he is stuffed to the gills with mince pies, and can’t stop smiling. It’s a bit of an issue; the fact that he can’t stop thinking about his future fake boyfriend and the way Louis’ eyes crinkle when he smiles. Turns out sometimes you know you’re making a stupid decision and still do it anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

Louis is already there when Nick’s Uber pulls over outside Greg’s flat, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind. He offers Nick a smile and a wave before putting his hand back into his pocket. 

“Hiya.” Nick waves as he gets out of the car, immediately feeling like an idiot. Who waves at someone standing three feet away?

“Hi.” Louis laughs. He takes a step forward and there’s a brief moment where they kind of hover awkwardly next to each other before they seem to decide on an one-armed hug.

“Have you been waiting long? It’s bloody freezing.”

“A couple of minutes.”

Louis is wearing a cozy looking denim jacket with a teddy lining, Nick can see the jumper he helped pick out where Louis hasn’t bothered to do up the jacket. He looks good. Really good, actually. 

“Ready for this?”

“No.” Nick replies, honestly, before he can think of a lie. His stomach is in knots. “I keep thinking, like, of all the ways this could go wrong? That’ll be proper embarrassing, won’t it. Maybe even worse than being pathetically hung up on my ex. At least that parts kind of a secret, what if -”

“Whoa.” Louis puts a hand on Nick’s arm. “Breathe.”

“Sorry.” Nick does as he’s told. Pausing his rant to pull in a deep, steadying breath. It doesn’t really help, but Louis’ hand is strong and sure on his arm. He takes another deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“There we go.” Louis nods encouragingly. “Just pretend we’re on a date, okay? Nothing weird, just the two of us at a party. With all of your closest colleagues and superiors.” He adds, with a cheeky grin because he’s evil and clearly wants Nick to suffer a bit now that his breathing is back to normal.

“Cheers for that.” Nick scoffs, but he does feel a little better. If Louis had continued pitying him for his nerves he would probably have ended up hyperventilating.

“Anytime.” Louis winks, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”

For a moment Nick’s brain doesn’t connect the dots. When he does he can feel himself flush. Louis is asking him to hold his hand. “Oh. Right.” 

“Got to make sure we arrive in style.” Louis jokes as Nick takes his hand, intertwining their fingers. Clearly he’s oblivious to Nick’s tiny meltdown.

Louis’ hand is smaller than his own, Nick notices, cold from the chilly weather. He rubs a thumb over the back of it, eager to share some warmth. Greg lives up one flight of stairs in an old, Victorian building. They can hear the music as they head up the stairs and the air carries the scent of mulled wine.

“Grimmy!” Greg is all smiles as he opens the door, looking a little flushed in his denim shirt. “And Grimmy’s date, hello!”

Nick should really say something, but he’s too busy freaking the fuck out. Luckily, Louis saves the day by extending his free hand to Greg.

“I’m Louis. Nice to meet you.”

“Hello Louis, welcome.” Greg grins, shaking his hand. “Grimmy didn’t mention he was bringing a date.”

“Are you keeping me a secret?” Louis turns towards Nick, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

“Sure am.” Nick nods, “Surprise!” He directs the last bit towards Greg who only laughs and shakes his head. There’s a possibility it comes out sounding slightly manic, but neither Louis or Greg comments.

“Come on in, chuck your coats wherever, it’s a bit crowded.”

They end up leaving their jackets in an already existing pile on what Nick suspects is a hallway table. When Louis suggests going off in search of drinks, Nick is quick to agree. He points Louis towards the kitchen, following after him. He lets his gaze sweep over Louis from the back, noticing how well his outfit suits him. If the black skinny jeans he’s wearing are the ‘come fuck me jeans’ Niall had been referring to, then Niall hadn’t been exaggerating.

It’s a bit crowded inside Greg and Bella’s kitchen, and Nick and Louis catch the attention of a few of the guests when they enter. Nick’s caught up in a hug from Annie, introducing her to Louis as they break apart. More greetings follow, and Nick’s relieved to find that no one really seems to question Louis being there. He gets a pointed look and a raised eyebrow from his fellow producer Fiona, but she’s momentarily sidetracked by someone cracking open a bottle of prosecco and spilling parts of the content all over the floor.

“What do you want to drink?” Louis asks him, quietly, putting a casual hand on Nick’s hip.

“Is there wine?”

“I think so.” Louis nods, before going off in search of their drinks.

“Hi, Grim.”

Nick turns around at the sound of the familiar voice, finding Harry behind him, drink in hand.

“Hi, Haz.” He happily returns Harry’s hug. He likes Harry, who has been an intern with them on Chris’ show for the past couple of months. They get along well, have hung out outside of the offices multiple times. Harry’s also one of the few people who know about Nick’s thing with Adam, always down for a cup of tea and a chat when Nick needs to rant.

It’s when he pulls back that he sees it. It’s a tiny fishing pole, probably from some kind of children’s game, and from a red, satin ribbon hangs a mistletoe. Harry’s holding it in one hand, trying and failing to completely hide it behind his back.

Nick had completely forgotten about Greg and Bella’s ridiculous tradition and now his blood is freezing in his veins at the sight of it. Nick’s seen the mistletoe in action on several occasions, it’s usually sweet, or a good laugh. A cheeky way of getting couples to kiss, or to tip people who have been dancing around one another to finally get snogging. Tonight he’s regretting having ever laughed at the use of that Devil’s stick.

“Is that your date?” Harry nods towards Louis, who is busy pouring a glass of wine over at the kitchen counter.

Nick briefly considers lying. He knows the reason behind Harry’s question, can see the smile tugging at the corner of Harry’s mouth. He is trying to come up with the right thing to say, the thing that will convince Harry not to dangle the Christmas-y monstrosity over Louis’ head when he returns with the drinks.

He’s miraculously saved by both Greg and Bella walking into the kitchen, catching Harry’s attention. Moving quickly, Nick walks up to Louis. “Let’s go to the living room.” He suggests, steering Louis towards the hallway with a hand on his elbow. He ignores the confused look Louis sends him, grabbing the glass of wine from his hand and having a big swallow.

“I heard the food’s in here.” Nick lies, in lieu of an explanation.

Luckily, he’s proven right. There’s a side table in the living room crowded with plates of canapés and nibbly bits. The universe seems to hate him, however, because the first person they come across as they walk through the doorway is Adam.

“Nick.”

Adam looks good, Nick notices idly, the dark cotton of his shirt stretching across his broad chest. Not that he’d ever tell him as much, Adam has enough ego as it is. He accepts the barely there cheek kiss in greeting, all the while feeling Louis’ eyes on them. 

“Adam, this is Louis.”

He expects Adam to turn on the usual charm. The easy-going friendliness that serves Adam so well at work, or to convince people to give up their self respect and sleep with him even though he’s an absolute bastard.

What he doesn’t expect, is for Adam’s face to go blank. He doesn’t respond to Louis’ ‘hello’, only returning the handshake after an awkward moment of hesitation.

“Right.” Nick says, caught off guard by Adam’s behaviour. “Well, we only just got here so I guess we should mingle.”

“You do that.” Adam has a long drink from the cocktail in his hand, eyes never leaving Nick. “It’s been a while, Nick, we should catch up.”

“Yeah, sure. Later.” Nick laughs, hoping it doesn’t come out sounding as hysterical as it sounds to his own ears.

They’ve barely turned their backs on Adam before Louis is pulling at the sleeve of Nick’s jumper. “What a charming guy.” Louis scoffs, having a taste of his beer after nudging the bottle against Nick’s wine glass. “I can totally see why you’ve been so hung up on him.”

“Shut up.” Nick replies, but he can’t quite keep the smile off his face and he knows Louis can tell. “He’s usually all smiles, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“Oh, I have an idea.” Louis says, just as they’re interrupted by Fiona and her boyfriend who immediately drag Louis into conversation.

Nick breathes a sigh of relief, ignoring the curious looks Fiona sends his way. He’ll avoid being alone with her until she’s forgotten all the questions she undeniably wants to ask him about Louis, and all will be well. 

Perhaps him and Louis can actually get away with their little scheme.

 

 

 

 

 

Nick is absolutely, one hundred percent, fucked. 

Louis keeps _touching_ him. Small, casual touches while he’s charming the socks off Nick’s work colleagues. An arm wrapped casually around Nick’s waist while they explore the table of nibbles and snacks and Nick struggles not to hyperventilate. It all comes to a head when Louis comes back from the loos to discover his seat next to Nick on the sofa has been taken, and simply plops down on Nick’s lap.

Nick could swear his heart stops in his chest. For a moment his arms feel like alien limbs, there’s no place to put his hands that doesn’t involve touching Louis and Nick wants that a little too much. 

“I’m not crushing you, am I?” Louis asks him, quietly, and it takes Nick a second too long to get his response out. Louis starts getting to his feet, and without thinking Nick snakes an arm around his waist.

“You’re not.” He blurts out, pulling Louis back onto his lap. “Don’t be silly.”

He can see the edge of Louis’ smile before Louis has a mouthful of beer. His free hand comes to rest on top of Nick’s on his leg, his thumb brushing over the back of Nick’s hand. It’s nice, too nice, and it leaves Nick horribly unprepared for Harry to speak up from the armchair on their left.

“How long have you been together?”

Nick freezes.

“Oh, not that long, really.” Louis smiles. It seems to come easy for him, their little charade. “A couple of weeks, yeah, babe?”

“Huh?”

“Earth to Nick.” Louis laughs, nudging him carefully in the chest with one elbow. He puts his arm around Nick’s neck, squeezing his shoulder and Nick’s quite possibly dying a little bit. Louis is so close, close enough for Nick to count his eyelashes. Louis’ eyes are dancing with mirth when he turns to look at Nick. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind hasn’t it?

“Yeah.” Nick croaks out, and he’s not even lying anymore, is he? “We’re good though, aren’t we, love? We’ve got a good pace going, I’d say.” 

“So good.” Louis agrees.

“Excellent.” 

Harry’s voice catches the attention of both Nick and Louis.

“Then you won’t mind me doing this.” Harry grins, and when he reaches for his back pocket Nick knows they’re fucked. He watches in growing horror as Harry pulls the miniature fishing rod out of his back pocket, the green branch of doom dangling from the end of the ribbon.

“Haz-” Nick stammers, but is cut off by a wave of Harry’s hand.

“Don’t ‘Haz’ me, Nick. Kiss your date.”

Nick hasn’t even dared look over at Louis yet, but pulling in a deep breath he turns his head to look at him. Louis is looking back, a little warily. They haven’t planned for this, Nick thinks. No plan on how to avoid disasters such as this. 

Harry raises his hand, dangling the mistletoe between Nick and Louis, only offering Nick an angelic smile when Nick turns towards him in a last attempt to weasel his way out of the situation. Nick’s objection dies on his lips. There’s no reason he can find to why he shouldn’t want to kiss Louis. Nothing that won’t make him sound like a proper arsehole.

“I’m waiting.” Harry sing-songs, dangling the mistletoe above their heads. It bumps against Nick’s forehead, and he briefly considers grabbing it and chucking it across the room.

“Oh, for the love of-” Louis mutters, and before Nick can even register what’s happening Louis is grabbing his chin and turning Nick’s head towards himself.

Their eyes meet, briefly, and there’s a question in Louis’ eyes that Nick knows the answer to. Yes, please. Louis’ lips are soft against his own. The kiss is brief, a careful brush of lips before Louis pulls back, accompanied by Harry cheering loudly.

Nick’s heart is pounding in his chest. There’s no denying it, he’s totally and irrevocably crushing on his fake date. 

He’s such an idiot.

 

 

 

 

 

Nick’s a little drunk. Perhaps more than a little. Greg and his girlfriend Bella had involved everyone in the flat in a music quiz with regularly distributed shots “in aid of team spirit”. The shots had probably contained at least three different kinds of alcohol, Nick was pretty sure he could feel them burn an actual hole in his throat going down. It didn’t stop anyone from indulging, however, and the volume inside the flat has definitely gone up in the past half hour.

He’s looking around the room, wondering where Louis has disappeared to when he realises that he needs a wee. Making his excuses he makes his way down the hallway towards the loo. He surveys his reflection in the mirror, suddenly feeling a little more drunk inside standing there than he had before. He takes care of business and when he exits the bathroom he nearly stumbles when someone walks straight into him.

“Oh, sorry, mate.”

It’s Louis, and he seems to recognise Nick the same second Nick sees it’s him. They had been on opposite ends of the room when they’d been divided into teams. Nick had definitely been fretting. He’d felt bad for Louis being stuck with a group of strangers until he’d seen Annie take Louis under her wing, introducing him to the other members of their team. 

In hindsight, he should definitely have worried more about Louis’ ridiculous level of knowledge of 90’s pop. Louis’ team had ended up winning, performing a rowdy karaoke version of a Spice Girls medley in celebration.

“Hiya.” 

Louis is touching him arm, Nick can feel the warmth of his palm through his shirt. 

“Hey.” Louis looks a little drunk, there’s a flush to his cheeks that’s visible even in the darkness of the hallway. “Sorry, I got held up by... James?”

Nick nods to let him know he’d gotten the name right. “Revelling in your win?”

“Something like that.”

“You do a good Ginger Spice.”

Louis laughs, his thumb digging into Nick’s lower arm. “Cheers.” He mimics a dance move, stumbling a little and catching himself against the wall. “Whoa.”

“Too much team spirit?”

“Those shots were truly something.”

“Bella’s really good at mixing lethal drinks. I should have warned you.” Nick admits. He’s definitely not staring at the cut of Louis’ cheekbone, or the way his mussed up fringe is curling against his temple. That would be really fucking stupid, so of course he’s not.

“I hope that was okay, earlier.” Louis moves so that he’s leaning back against the wall, looking up at Nick and it’s really unfair how his eyes can look that blue when they’re in a dark hallway. He gestures vaguely, and Nick immediately misses Louis’ hand on his arm.

“No. Don’t worry.” For once this evening the words seem to be on his side. “I was just... surprised, for a second.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Things seem to be going well.”

Nick’s confused. “What?”

“The thing.” Louis gestures vaguely. Right. Nick had almost forgotten.

“They are.”

“No desire to go home with the douche bag ex?”

Nick snorts out a laugh. “Nope.”

“Good.” Louis nods, and then it seems as if he’s about to continue talking but stops himself.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Nick couldn’t even say what room Adam’s in right now. He used to be hyper aware of his every move whenever they were at the same party. It became a habit, more than something he did out of want. Tonight he can’t remember why it had felt so important at the time.

Tonight he’s too busy looking at Louis. He finds himself staring at the bob of Louis’ throat when he swallows, the shape of his mouth. Louis is gorgeous. He can tell the moment Louis notices him looking, the sharp intake of breath that seem to leave the air around them crackling. Nick wants to kiss him again. Can’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t. 

He takes a step closer, is bringing his hand up to cup Louis’ jaw when a loud voice interrupts them.

“Oi, oi!” Greg’s voice cuts through the hallway, making both Nick and Louis jump. “No naughty business in the hallway, lads. Hands where I can see them!” Greg snickers, throwing an arm around each of their necks, pulling them into an uncomfortable embrace.

“Fuck off, Greg.” Nick whines, struggling to walk with Greg as he drags them towards the living room. 

“Nope, sorry, you’re not allowed to sneak off into dark corners, mate! Straight through crew! We’ve got to keep our head in the game!!”

Louis laughs, and he only has to sing the first couple of lines of that damn musical song before Greg is gasping in delight, dragging him towards the karaoke machine. Nick watches them go, not sure how the bubble he and Louis had been in had burst so quickly. They were about to kiss again, he knows, but he’s not sure what it means. His head is spinning.

Louis looks completely unaffected, though. He’s laughing at something Greg’s saying, the two of them bent over the karaoke binder. Perhaps it was only a spur of the moment thing, a cheeky almost kiss between friends. They’ve become as much, over the past couple of weeks. Perhaps Louis had only been keeping up appearances, playing his part. Or maybe he was simply looking for a bit of a snog, a one night thing. The thought makes Nick’s stomach churn.

“Grimmy! Have one.” James idles up to Nick, tray of shots in hand. It’s the poisonous ones from before. Nick downs two in quick succession with James cheering him on. The shots are only luke warm now, and it feels a bit poetic somehow. 

Greg and Louis seems to have made their choice of song, stumbling into the cleared out space on the floor. Cheers erupt as the first bars of Last Christmas start playing, and when Greg starts belting out the verse Nick knows it’s time for a breather. He needs a smoke.

The hallway is empty, everyone seems to have gathered in the living room. He finds Annie’s coat, the bright fake fur easy to spot in a pile of dark colours. Knowing her, he quickly digs through the pockets and finds her emergency pack of cigarettes. There’s a lighter in there too, and he brings it with him without a second thought. 

Stepping through the building’s front door, he immediately regrets not bringing a coat. It’s freezing. He doesn’t want to go back upstairs. Teeth clattering, he hurriedly lights up a cigarette, trying to ignore the icy cold wind. He can hear the party from down here. He pays no attention to the sound of the door opening and closing behind him until there’s a familiar voice right behind him.

“Hey.”

Startled, Nick turns around. 

“You forgot this.” Adam says, holding out Nick’s coat.

Stunned, Nick lets Adam help him into the coat. It helps immediately, shielding him from the wind. He has another drag from the cigarette. “Cheers.”

Adam reaches for the cigarette in Nick’s hand without a word. It’s such a familiar move that for a second Nick can’t do a thing but act as is expected of him. He hands it over, watching Adam’s lips close around it. He offers Adam the pack once he gets his own smoke back, but Adam only shakes his head.

Nick has a last drag before dropping the butt to the ground. He should get back inside. He’s about to say as much when Adam suddenly wraps a hand around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. There’s a millisecond where Nick kisses back on pure instinct, prepared for the rush of want. He’s momentarily thrown when it doesn’t come, when suddenly all he can focus on is how wrong it feels. Adam’s lips are too demanding on his own, the grip he has on Nick’s waist too tight.

“No.” Nick mumbles the protest against Adam’s lips, wrenching free.

Adam frowns, following him when Nick takes a step back. “What? Come on, babe-”

“I said no.” Nick takes another step back when Adam tries to kiss him again. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, swallowing against the nausea that’s building in his stomach. He shouldn’t have had those last shots. Or that cigarette. Shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

“Playing hard to get, huh? That’s new.”

“I’m here with someone.”

Adam laughs, quick and sharp. “That bloke from earlier? Really?”

“He’s great. Nice.”

“Didn’t seem too bothered with ‘nice’ before.” 

Adam’s smile is tight at the edges, and Nick braces himself for what’s to come.

“Too busy choking on my cock to bother much with that, weren’t you, Grim? Did you tell him about me, by the way? Does he know how easily you went down on your knees for me?”

It hits him then. There might have been times when he has gone on a rant about his douche bag ex for the dramatics of it all. But standing opposite him now on a dark and cold December night, Nick realises that he really fucking hates his guts. “You are such an arsehole.” 

“You’re the one who keeps coming back, darling.”

“Well I’m over it. You.”

Adam laughs. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, do fuck off, Adam.” Nick turns his back on him, walking down the road. His heart is pounding in his chest. He lights another cigarette, ignoring the way his hands shake, waiting for Adam to call out after him. When he reaches the end of the street he turns around, bracing himself for more arguing. The road is empty. Adam has left, and Nick breathes a sigh of relief. Shivering, he finishes the smoke quickly, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he makes his way back inside.

The party has died down a bit when Nick reenters the living room. It doesn’t bother him. He’s not much in the mood for partying anymore. He does a quick scan of the room, searching for Louis’ familiar profile. When he comes up short, he goes off in search of their host. 

“Grimmy!” Greg’s sat on the sofa, his girlfriend half asleep against his shoulder. Nick takes a seat on the armrest. “Where you’ve been, mate?”

Nick shrugs, steals Greg’s beer and has a sip. He’s lucky enough that Greg doesn’t seem bothered with Nick’s lack of an answer.

“I like your new lad.”

“He’s a big fan of yours.” Nick grits out, has another swallow of beer. The beer is lukewarm and a bit flat.

He’s caught off guard when Greg starts to laughs, gripping Nick’s shoulder tightly, shaking him. “Are you kidding me, mate? He couldn’t stop raving about _you_.”

Nick blinks, for a second thinking he must have heard him wrong. “Really?”

“To be honest I thought you’d left, the both of you. I saw Louis sneak off a while after we’d brought the house down with our excellent karaoke skills. Figured he was following you.” 

“He didn’t.” Nick digs his thumb nail into the edge of the bottle’s label. He has a growing suspicion he has fucked up. “I need to go.”

Greg’s jaw drops. “But we’re straight through crew-ing it! Only a couple hours left!”

“Your producer has already left. Gone home.” Nick tells him. “Or to some club to pick up some poor, unsuspecting stranger. I need to talk to Louis. I don’t… I’m tired. I want to get some sleep.”

Greg lets it drop a lot faster than Nick had expected. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. It looks ridiculous.“Go get your boy.”

“He’s not my boy.”

It stings.

“I get you, it’s still early days. But he could be, yeah?”

Nick doesn’t bother correcting him. He finds his coat again, following a couple of Bella’s friends who are also leaving the flat. Once he’s in a taxi he gets his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the way it makes his head spin. 

_Oi! Where did you go?_ He types out, sending it off to Louis before he can second guess himself.

He stumbles out of the cab fifteen minutes later, still clutching his phone in his hand. There’s no response from Louis and it makes something inside his chest clench uncomfortably. He suddenly feels too drunk, as if he’s wading through mud. His lips are numb.

The stairwell smells of pine. Nick climbs the steps up to their apartment slowly, keeping his head down. Their neighbours have put up a wreath on their door, the branches a muted green against the vivid, red ribbon, and the scent of pine is even stronger there.

He finds his keys and unlocks the door, finding the apartment silent. Neither Emily or Aimee seem to be awake and he fights the urge to knock on Aimee’s door. Standing in the middle of their tiny hallway he suddenly feels desperately, achingly alone in a way that only three o’clock in the morning can make you feel.

Once inside the comforts of his bedroom he changes into joggers and a hoodie before getting into bed. He can’t seem to get warmed up, pulling the duvet all the way to his chin and curling up. There’s still no response from Louis. 

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

When Nick wakes up it’s to weak, grey light coming through his window. He’d never closed the blinds and now he has a first row view to bleak skies and the tiniest hint of flurry snowflakes in the air. He already knows his mum will be texting him every ten minutes during his drive back home; telling him to adhere to the speed limit, take plenty of breaks and then yell at him if he replies because he shouldn’t text and drive at the same time. He’s had maybe four hours of sleep, vaguely remembers being half awake, tossing and turning, at some point during the early morning. It’s a good thing he hasn’t planned leaving until this afternoon, he’s definitely feeling a little on the delicate side.

Louis still hasn’t texted him back. The realisation makes his stomach sink, a tight ball of disappointment at the back of his throat. He allows himself a moment to wallow, curling up under the duvet until he must resemble some kind of hungover burrito. He can’t shake the feeling that Louis is angry with him, that perhaps he’d had a shot at something that he messed up. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He mutters, held back from smothering himself with a pillow by a knock on his bedroom door.

“Morning.” Aimee calls quietly from the doorway, shuffling inside in her enormous unicorn slippers, carrying two steaming mugs of tea.

“Hey.” Nick greets her, barely audible from under the edge of his duvet. “Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Make some room.” Aimee tells him, and he slowly unrolls himself from the duvet and lifts a corner up in welcome. He holds the mugs as Aimee makes herself comfortable, keeping one of them once she’s settled next to him.

“Ta.”

“How was last night?”

She goes straight for it, of course she does. Sometimes he suspects both his flatmates are secretly psychic. He sips his tea, trying to find the words. It all comes spilling out of him, eventually. All the ups and downs of last night. It’s a relief, telling someone. Made even better for how she bristles when he tells her about what went down between him and Adam.

“He is such a fucking asshole.” Aimee spits. “And I know you had a crush on him or whatever but he really doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“He is.” Nick agrees, leaving his mug on the chair next to his bed and curling up against Aimee’s side. She immediately puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him even closer so that his face is half buried in her fluffy, pink bathrobe. “Too bad it took me so bloody long to realise.”

“You got there in the end.” Aimee teases him gently, kissing the top of his head to let him know she means no harm.

“I think I fucked up a bit. With Louis. He isn’t replying to my texts.”

“So fix it.”

Nick picks at a loose thread on the belt of her robe. “I’m not sure how.”

“Tell him you want to take him on a date. A real one, not a pretend to be on a date-date.”

She makes it sound simple, and it makes Nick believe that maybe, just maybe, it could be. 

“You know where he lives, right? You could drop by before you get on the road.”

“He’s working today, he told me.” 

There had been a plan in place, originally. Nick has a birthday present for Louis hidden in the drawers at the corner of his room. He was going to drop by the coffee shop on his way up North and give it to him. Thank him for helping out, maybe see if he wanted to hang out sometime. Maybe go for a pint or something. But that was before Nick was stupid and went and caught feelings and then fucked it all up a bit.

“That’s even better! He can’t slam the door in your face if he’s at work!”

“Comforting.” Nick scoffs, pinching her knee. “Not sure I’m up for being rejected in a coffee shop today.”

“Maybe you won’t be rejected. Sing him some Mariah.” Aimee suggests, singing the chorus ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.

“I have an awful singing voice.”

“True. Maybe do a bit of a dance? Interpretative dancing. That’s romantic.”

Nick snorts out a laugh, sliding further down on the bed to hide his face against her waist. They’re quiet for a while, Aimee sipping her tea. Nick puts an arm over her stomach, hugging her the best he can from where he’s curled up against her side. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

 

 

 

 

 

A woman carrying a take away cup is leaving the coffee shop in a hurry as Nick enters. There’s only a couple of people in there, a couple over by the windows and a guy tapping away at his laptop. Nick spots Louis behind the counter, he has his back to Nick, talking animatedly to his coworker. Nick’s heart does a double take at the sight of him. He’s halfway to the counter when Louis turns around, visibly startled at the sight of Nick.

“Fucking Hell.” Louis exhales, one hand flying to his chest. He doesn’t look very happy to see Nick. “Wow, you look like shit.”

Nick flinches, can’t stop himself. He tugs a little on his beanie, wishing he had at least done his hair before he left his flat. “Ouch.”

“Louis!” The other guy exclaims, looking scandalized. “I’m so sorry, mate, he-”

“Liam, this is Nick.” Louis cuts him off, nodding towards Nick. 

The change in the guy’s, Liam’s, expression is immediate. “Nick?” Liam lifts an eyebrow. “ _The_ Nick?”

“Go clean something.” Louis tells him, and Nick watches the two of them have a conversation made up entirely of pointed looks. Liam does leave, eventually, disappearing through the door marked ‘private’.

Louis actually looks a little embarrassed, he opens his mouth to say something but Nick cuts him off,

“I didn’t get much sleep.”

It’s not until the words left his mouth that he realises exactly what it sounds like. He’d only been trying to explain his lack of… glow? Personal grooming? 

Louis visibly deflates, but then his expression smooths out. “Congratulations on the sex? I guess our plan didn’t work.”

“No, that’s not-” Nick stammers, heart pounding. He’s fucking it up before he’s even gotten started. “That’s not what happened.”

“No?” Louis lifts an eyebrow, looking as if he doesn’t believe a single word Nick is saying. But there’s something sad in his eyes too, and he’s crossing his arms over his chest as he continues. “Your douchey ex definitely made it seem like that was the plan you’d agreed on when I bumped into him getting your coats.”

Nick’s stomach drops. “That-” He has a fairly good idea of how Adam made things sound. The absolute bastard. “No. I went out for a smoke, he followed me. I didn’t sleep with him, but not for a lack of trying on his side. I told him no.”

“Oh.” Louis is quiet for a bit, fiddling with the display trays on the counter. The next time he looks up at Nick there’s a smile on his face. It doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “Good for you, mate. Personal growth and all that.”

Nick doesn’t know how to fix this. He hates the look on Louis’ face. He’s seen Louis smile, thinks it might be one of his new favourite things. This looks nothing like it. “I looked for you when I came back inside.”

“Yeah, uhm, I left. I thought you had your night sorted, didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I didn’t see you leave.”

“Yeah. Well.” Louis shrugs, looks away. “You were gone for quite a while.”

“Sorry.” Nick wants to reach out and touch him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Louis replies. He reaches for a rag and starts wiping down the counter top. “You’re leaving today, right? Driving home?”

“I am. I didn’t want to leave without talking to you.”

Louis is about to reply when they’re interrupted by a couple of girls walking through the door. Louis takes their orders, and Nick hovers awkwardly by the espresso machine while he gets to work making their drinks. He knows he has one more thing he needs to get off his chest.

“I told Adam I fancy someone else.” He blurts out once the girls have left to find themselves a table, interrupting Louis’ cleaning.

Louis stops what he’s doing, eyes immediately going to Nick. “That’s-”

“You.” Nick manages to get the word out, feeling as if his heart might actually be stuck in his throat. “That’s you.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. He’s still holding the whipped cream container in one hand, staring at Nick with a slight frown on his face. Nick’s insides are twisting uncomfortably, rejection burning hotly at the pit of his stomach. There had been a moment where he’d thought that maybe, just maybe, Louis wouldn’t turn him down. 

“Right. I’ll just-” He can’t finish the sentence, doesn’t know what to say. So instead he turns around and heads for the door. He’s reaching for the door handle when he realises he’s still holding the bag with Louis’ gift. Fuck. Eager to get it all done with, he turns his back to the door, surprised to see Louis hurrying towards him. Liam has returned to his previous position behind the counter, and is watching both of them with a small frown on his face.

“Oh, uhm, this is for you.”

Louis stops at the bottom of the stairs. “For me?”

“For your birthday.” Nick clarifies. His legs feel stiff when he walks down the steps, handing Louis the bag. “And to say thank you, I guess. For helping me. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it.”

He turns to leave again, but is stopped by Louis’ hand on his arm. 

“Wait. Aren’t you going to watch me open it?”

Nick swallows tightly. He wants to leave, get away from Louis and the stupid crush Nick has on him. Wants to get in the car and listen to some angry music all the way up to Oldham. Perhaps he’ll stop and buy himself an overpriced Starbucks drink with too much sugar in it out of spite. Still, he finds himself nodding. “Okay.”

He watches Louis unwrap his gift, revealing one of the jumpers he’d been trying on before the party. Nick had noticed how much he’d liked it, but since it wasn’t what Louis needed for the party it had ended up back in the bag. Nick wants him to have nice things. Especially if the nice things are soft, cozy jumpers that make his eyes look ridiculously blue.

“I love it, but you knew that already. Thank you so much.” Louis tells him, quietly. “You didn’t use Christmas paper.”

“Of course not. It’s a birthday present.”

Louis smiles and Nick’s heart clenches in his chest. Enough of this. “I need to get going.”

“I like you too.”

Louis’ words literally make him stop mid-step. For a moment Nick is convinced he heard wrong, but Louis is smiling at him. It’s a small, hesitant smile but it’s there. “You do?”

“I didn’t offer to go with you to that party because I fancied _Greg_ , you knob.”

Nick can quite literally feel his jaw drop to somewhere level with his knees. “You didn’t? But you said-”

“I lied.” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?”

“Oh, come on. You seemed kind of hung up on your ex. Plus, you’re all posh with a proper adult job and all, and I’m nothing but a bloody uni student. I work in a bloody Costa for fuck’s sake. I figured if I asked you out I’d be a rebound at best.”

“Oi.” Nick calls out, silencing Louis’ self deprecating rant. “I like Costa.” He points out, carefully reaching out to catch Louis’ hand in his. “And you. I like you. Quite a bit, actually.”

Louis intertwines their fingers, pulling a little on Nick’s hand. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it, then?” 

There’s nothing hesitant about Louis’ smile now, his eyes are sparkling. Nick can feel his own smile stretching his face. “Might kiss you, if you’ll let me.”

Louis steps in closer, tugging playfully on the hem of Nick’s hoodie. “It’s allowed. Encouraged, even.”

Nick is still laughing when their lips connect and then they’re kissing. Right in the middle of an half empty Costa, with Michael Bublé singing about Christmas in the background. Louis is smiling when they pull apart, and Nick is immediately forced to pull him into a second kiss. They’re interrupted by a loud whistle, startling apart to find Liam grinning at them from behind the till. It has caught the attention of everyone in the shop, and Nick looks over his shoulder to find the guy with the laptop trying to hide his smile behind his laptop screen. Louis is blushing, but smiling up at Nick and honestly, Nick suddenly couldn’t care less about having an audience.

“When are you leaving for Oldham, then?” Louis asks when they break apart, both of his hands inside the front pocket of Nick’s hoodie to keep them close. Nick can feel Louis’ knuckles brushing against his stomach through the soft cotton of his hoodie, the barely there touch sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m supposed to drive up this afternoon.” Nick is already trying to come up with excuses to tell his mum. A reason for both him and Louis to let go of all travel plans and just stay right where they are. Kiss some more. A lot.

“Our timing is awful.”

Nick nods. “When’s your bus?”

“At half two.” Louis grimaces. “I’m going straight to the station from here. I’ve got my bags in the staff room.”

Nick is suddenly struck by genius, clearly on a roll with the universe today. “I could drive you? If you want?”

“I do, but it’s out of your way. Besides, my mum already got me the ticket.”

“It’s no trouble. Plus, it would be nice, yeah? To have some company. Unless your mum will be cross with you for not using the ticket.” 

Louis chuckles. “I’m sure she’ll get over it. Just don’t crash the car and we’ll be fine.”

“That’s sorted, then.” Nick smiles, pleased. “I could wait here, my chair’s free.” He nods towards the two armchairs at the back of the shop, where they sat when it all began. “Maybe I should have some kind of plaque made. Stake my claim.”

Louis snorts out a laugh, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist and pulling him into a hug. “You’re so weird.”

“Well apparently you like weird, so maybe you’re weird too.” Nick replies, giving in to the urge to kiss him again, soft and sweet. It makes Nick’s stomach swoop.

“I could probably bag up some of the leftover pastries for the drive, make a date out of it.” 

“Sounds great.” Nick carefully reaches out to brush Louis’ fringe to the side. He can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. “Can’t wait.”

“Maybe I’m a nuisance in the passenger seat.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Yeah?”

“Supply me with caramel shortbread and I’ll let you get away with pretty much anything.” Nick jokes, smiling when Louis laughs.

“You’re only in it for the pastries, huh?”

“Yup.” Nick grins. “And the coffee.”

“We owe it all to coffee.”

“Coffee and bad decisions.” Nick tacks on. “So many bad decisions. It was about fucking time for a good one.”

“Is that what I am?” Louis asks him, still grinning. “A good decision?”

Nick’s heart feels too big for his chest. “I think you might be the best decision I’ve made all year.”

 

 

 

THE END.

 

 


End file.
